Perhaps he truly meant it – perhaps there was a force within him that could withstand the hardships of existing past a mortal lifetime. Having disposed of his steed and swallowed a glass of brandy, without taking any other refreshment, he threw himself on a couch, where he sank at once into a heavy slumber. Remember what the conjuror said. There he sat as before, with the heavy fetters on his limbs, and beside him sat his three companions, who had since expiated their offences on the gibbet. “Hill gradually recovering consciousness.
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